Music to my Ears
by disc-on-tent
Summary: Being in tune with Atlantis becomes more than just an expression.  First person POV.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Music to my Ears.

Setting: Second season.

Rating: K.

Disclaimer: All characters etc are owned by someone else. No money made. No copyright infringements intended.

Summary: Being in tune with Atlantis becomes more than just an expression. First person POV.

As always, Beta'ed by Kiky – Thanks again for the excellent suggestions and help.

A/N - A short three parter - A middle, a beginning and an end.

Music to my Ears.

A loud jarring note woke me.

I swung my legs over the side of the high bed and gently lowered myself to the floor; the cold of the tiles making me flinch as my bare feet touched the ground. A plain white over-jacket hung from the back of a chair and I wrapped it around me, tying it closed for warmth.

The unpleasant noise was getting louder, filling my chest with its clamour. Looking around the room I could see no other people, but the door was open and I left, hoping to discover the source of the grating sound.

I padded along empty corridors, following the sound, until I reached a large room with a black metal box in the centre.

The discord in my chest was loud enough now to reach my ears. It came from the metal box, which was attached via a long wire to a small flat pad covered in tiny keys.

A thin man with straggly hair was tapping frantically on the keys, but his efforts were having no effect on the discordant noise.

"May I?" He turned to look at me as I spoke. His blue eyes widened behind round glass lenses and his mouth fell open.

"Rodney? What are you…"

The noise was becoming unbearable now, and I stepped past him and stood before the instrument that he had been using.

The problem was obvious; the metal box was out of tune with everything else. I ran my hands experimentally over the tiny keys, discovering to my delight the liquid music that they produced.

I closed my eyes and composed a short piece to resolve the cacophony. As I played the last note, the strident discord segued into a gentle melody. I opened my eyes again and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment as the music in my heart swelled. I listened as the new tune that I had created intertwined with all the other harmonies in the air around me.

"Rodney?"

A voice from the doorway broke the spell and I turned to see a tall, tousle-haired man, all in black, standing there. I smiled at him, still enjoying the moment.

"Radek, what's he doing here?" The tall man had turned his question to the man beside me, who was now staring at a small flat screen.

"I honestly don't know, Colonel." The man called Radek tapped twice on a key, but the notes he produced sounded flat. "One of the Ancient power distribution units was overloading and I could not shut it down, then Rodney just appeared and…" he squinted at the screen, "it now seems to be working perfectly." He looked up at the man he had called Colonel, "At 120 percent efficiency."

The tall man looked at me and drew his brows together. "Rodney, are you okay?" He seemed intent on my reply, but I was unsure of his meaning. Now that the harmony had been restored I felt fine, but I had an impression that he meant something more. I was about to ask him what, when the smaller man spoke.

"Colonel Sheppard," Radek's voice sounded excited as he hunched over the tiny keys. "I have no idea how he did it, but he's completely rewritten the unit's power flow subroutine. I've never seen code like this before." He tapped again on the keys, and peered at the screen. "I don't even know how he persuaded the interface to accept these commands." He started muttering to himself in a language that I couldn't understand.

On a nearby bench sat several more of the flat keyboards. Picking one up, I turned to face the black clothed man who now seemed to be in charge. "May I take one of these?" I asked.

"Ah, not that one, please." The smaller man gently took the flat pad from my hands and replaced it on the bench. He looked at Colonel Sheppard who raised a single eyebrow. "That is McKay's own laptop." Radek offered, apparently in explanation. "There are things on it that we will need if he doesn't regain…" He stopped abruptly, glancing at me with a strange expression on his face.

The other man's eyes narrowed. "He will." There was a fierce determination in the statement that left no room for debate.

I picked up another of the flat pads and looked questioningly at both men. They exchanged glances and the tousle-haired man nodded at me so I settled down on a stool and began to run my fingers over the keys. I was immersed in the pleasing melody that I was creating when I became conscious of the small man looking over my shoulder at the screen that stood at an angle to the keyboard. I shifted slightly to allow him a better view and continued.

"Colonel," Radek's tone was hushed, as though he did not want to interrupt me, but the other man came over to stand behind us both. "Colonel, I don't know exactly what he is doing, but this is…" He stopped for a moment as if searching for a word. "This is amazing."

Radek leaned closer over my shoulder and his eyes skittered across the screen. "Rodney, do you know what this does?"

I considered my answer for a moment. "If it's allowed to combine with the music it will resolve some of the dissonance."

He turned to me with furrowed brows. "What music?"

I was puzzled by the question. Almost everything in the room was part of the music, including the three of us. The black-clothed man was most in tune with the world around him, I added to the symphony; even Radek was in harmony to a lesser degree.

"Rodney!" A new voice spoke my name so I stopped playing and turned to the door.

"Rodney, oh thank god." The lilting voice belonged to a dark-haired man wearing a long, white coat over a pale shirt. He glared angrily at the men with me. "Colonel Sheppard, did you not think to call me when you found him?"

"Sorry, Doc." Colonel Sheppard's hand fell onto my shoulder and squeezed gently. "But Rodney here has just shut down an overloading power distribution unit and I guess I got a little carried away." He sounded pleased, as if I had done something difficult.

The white-coated man gave me a piercing look before turning back to Colonel Sheppard. "D'you mean he remembered how to?" He demanded.

It was Radek who replied. "I don't think so, Doctor. What he is doing now seems to be on a different, almost subconscious, level."

The newcomer walked over to me and took my wrist between his fingers and thumb, looking down at something strapped to his own wrist. After a few moments, he let my hand fall and took a small black cylinder from his top pocket. "Okay, now can you tell me who you are?" He shone a bright light into my eye as he spoke and I screwed up my eyes in discomfort.

"My name is Rodney." I replied, turning around to the men standing behind me for confirmation.

"Sorry, Doc." The black-clothed man rubbed his neck and looked sheepish. "I guess we all sort of told him that."

"Okay, then. Can you tell me _where_ you are?"

I looked around the room, taking in the details for the first time. It was high ceilinged with dark walls and a red squared floor. Around the walls were tall banks of blinking lights, and on metal benches sat a number of boxes, similar to the one in the middle of the room, many of them adding to the musical harmony around me. It was a pleasant room, but nothing about it was familiar. I shook my head.

The white-coated man returned the cylinder to his pocket and put a hand to his left ear. "Elizabeth, this is Carson; we've found him. He made his way to his lab."

I looked towards the door, expecting to see whoever he was talking to, but the doorway remained empty.

After a short pause, the man called Carson continued speaking. "No, I'm afraid not." He looked down at me. "In fact, if anything, it seems to be getting worse. I'm taking him back to the infirmary with me now." He gently took my elbow and encouraged me to stand. As I did so, a feeling of dizziness rolled over me and my legs gave way. I would have fallen if strong hands hadn't caught me and helped me back onto the stool.

"Thank you, Colonel." Carson spoke over my head as he again took my wrist in his hand. I was content to just sit and wait until the dizziness passed while Carson again flashed the light in my eyes.

"D'you want to try that again, Rodney, or shall I order a stretcher?" The lilting voice sounded anxious but I slowly got to my feet without help. I reached over to the bench and lifted the keyboard and screen that I had been using. When no one complained, I tucked it carefully under my arm and allowed Carson to lead me from the room and back along the corridors, now busy with people. Many of them looked at me as we passed; some with a smile, but mostly with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

By the time we reached the room in which I'd woken, my legs felt heavy and my head had started to ache. I listened for a few moments to the melody in the air, but, within seconds of lying back down on the high bed, my eyes closed and I fell asleep.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Spoilers: Stargate: SG1 Season 2 episode 15 - 'The Fifth Race' 

Stargate: SG1 Season 7 episodes 19+20 - 'The Lost City' parts 1+2

A/N: The ending of this section has recently been totally re-written. I originally wrote it over a year ago. Some ideas have been superseded by events in later episodes of both Atlantis and SG1. Oh well...

How It Started.

Six Days Earlier.

'_McKay, this is Sheppard. You have got to see this!'_

Whoa. I'd been deep in concentration, softly humming a toccata that had been stuck in my head for a couple of days, when Sheppard's call jolted me back to the present, nearly causing me to drop a probe into the interior of the power conduit I was working on. Even after over a year I still wasn't used to a sudden disembodied voice in my ear, and Sheppard's was exceptionally animated. Judging by the childlike enthusiasm, I assumed that he had just found something that went 'bang'.

"What is it, Colonel?" There was a reason why I hadn't gone exploring Atlantis with the rest of the team, and Sheppard knew it. So I wasn't about to drop everything and go traipsing halfway across the city to look at a new weapon, unless I absolutely had to.

'_Well, I'm not exactly sure...'_ Sheppard was drawling now. Did he have any idea how much that annoyed me? _'but it looks like...'_ I was starting to lose patience. _'an Ancient library.'_

What? Why the hell hadn't I gone with the rest of the team?

"Don't touch anything, Colonel. I'll be right there." So, not a weapon then. At the time, it seemed odd that Sheppard would get so excited about a library; it didn't occur to me until much later that maybe he just knew that it would be something I would find fascinating. Having people care about what I wanted was something else that I hadn't quite got used to yet.

I'd picked up my laptop, data pad, and toolkit and got as far as the transporter before Sheppard's next words reached me.

'_Oh, and Rodney, bring something to eat; you might want to stay here a while.'_ Damn it. Sheppard really knew how to punch my buttons.

My hand hovered over the panel in the transporter as I debated with myself whether to call in at the mess hall before setting off for the Ancient library. Ancient library... Who was I trying to kid? I hit the light on the panel closest to Sheppard's location and ran the last three quarters of a mile.

Okay, jogged the last three quarters of a mile.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was Sheppard's smirking face. You'd have thought that he'd personally created the room rather than just discover it.

"Well, Rodney. What do you reckon?"

I treated the question with the contempt it deserved.

'Ancient library' appeared to be an accurate description of what I could see. Rack upon rack of data storage crystals lined the walls, with reading stations scattered throughout the central space. But what really grabbed my attention was the eight-foot high square column; or rather the greenish, organic-looking, vaguely circular panels set at head height into each of its faces.

If they were what I thought they were, then maybe Sheppard's smirk was actually justified.

oOo

"Which bit of 'no' is causing you the problem, Rodney?"

Elizabeth had joined us in the library and was sitting at one of the reading stations while Sheppard lounged in another chair. Ronon was leaning against a data rack with a bored expression on his face and Teyla prowled around the room like a cat.

I ignored Elizabeth's tone, intent on getting my point across. "Elizabeth, I don't think that you fully appreciate just how much..."

"You are not looking into that device." She cut me off before I could deliver my perfectly reasoned argument. Elizabeth can be stubborn at times and the set of her jaw told me that this was one of those times. "Don't forget," she continued, "I was there the last time that General O'Neill encountered one of these Repositories. It overloaded his brain, Rodney. If it hadn't been for the Asgard, he would have died. I'm not letting you take the same risk."

I couldn't believe the comparison that Elizabeth was making.

"Look," I said, "I'm sure that General O'Neill has a fine 'military' mind, but that hardly puts him in the same league as me."

Sheppard shot me a look. "And you'd risk that great mind of yours to prove it?"

"Please, Colonel." I gave him a withering glare, "I wasn't about to just stick my head into the thing."

Sheppard's narrowed eyes implied that he didn't believe me. Did he think that I was an idiot? Had I _ever_ given him the impression that I would do something quite so dangerous?

"Look, I've read the reports." I directed my words at Sheppard; if Elizabeth wouldn't listen to reason, then maybe he could be convinced of the importance of what I wanted to do. "Both times that General O'Neill encountered one of these devices it downloaded the entire knowledge of the Ancients into his brain." I ignored Sheppard's look of shock; apparently he hadn't seen the reports. "Now, I am prepared to admit that, even for me, that might be too much information to cope with all at once."

Everyone in the room stared at me, but again, I ignored their looks.

"But I don't have to do this all at once." Even as I spoke, connections clicked in my head. I don't much enjoy explaining on the fly, but the conclusions I was coming to were so obvious that I was almost surprised that I _needed_ to explain them. "I can access the information a bit at a time." I folded my arms over my chest and waited for the dawning of comprehension to appear on the faces of those around me.

"How?" Sheppard's question almost disrupted my train of thought, the answer was self-evident.

"This is a controlled environment, Colonel, and I'm sure that I can limit the amount of information downloaded." While I was talking, a final logical conclusion dropped into place. "In fact, I'm certain that the Ancients designed the Repositories to be used in that way."

"You're 'certain'?" This time it was Sheppard's sarcasm that caught me unprepared. Hadn't he been following what I was saying?

"Yes, Colonel, I'm certain. Look, the first time General O'Neill encountered one of these devices, he activated it without knowing what it was. The second time, he was under attack by the Goa'uld Anubis and had no time to consider any options that may have been available to him. Now, just dumping the entire knowledge of the Ancients into someone's brain _has_ to be dangerous; so that _cannot_ be how they were intended to be used. The Ancients weren't so different from us and if _I_ can't safely absorb that much information, then neither could they."

Sheppard looked like he was about to snap out a comment, but I didn't give him the chance.

"So there has to be a way for the user to select the information they want."

The Repository looked unlike any Ancient device that we had previously encountered in Atlantis. Most others resembled multi-manual church organs that made me feel like I should be playing something stirring by Bach.

Careful to avoid standing directly in front of the Repository's interface, I took a step towards the column and ran my hand over its smooth surface, humming the tune that still refused to leave my head. There were no obvious controls, but, looking down, I could see the faint outline of what might have been an access panel beneath the metallic green circle, so I hunkered down and ran my fingers around the edge. It was a tight fit and my fingernails weren't going to get it open; I needed my toolkit, which was on one of the chairs behind me, and I stood, forgetting for the moment exactly where I was.

As I straightened my legs, I found myself at eye level with the interface.

I jerked my head backwards but the Repository was too fast and my head was engulfed. I couldn't even cry out for help with my jaw clamped shut, although, believe me, I tried.

All outside sight and sound was gone. Bright lights flashed in my eyes, but it was the music that filled my mind.

oOo

The next thing I remembered was the astringent smell of antiseptic and I didn't need to be a genius to work out what that meant. I gave myself a quick physical once-over, wiggling fingers and toes and checking for the strange taste that Carson's sedatives tend to leave in my mouth, before cracking open an eye. I'd woken up in the infirmary too often to take anything for granted.

Everything seemed to be as it should, but the fact that I had no idea why I had ended up here was worrying, to say the least.

I thought back to the last thing that I could remember and worked forward from there. Power conduit… call from Sheppard… Ancient library… Repository…

Next to my bed a machine that had been giving out a slow, steady beep suddenly started to increase in tempo. The change in rhythm must have alerted Carson's 'patient radar' and he appeared at my bedside before I could do anything more than sit up.

"How are you feeling, Rodney?" Carson asked as he leaned over me and shone his annoyingly bright light in my eye.

I wasn't in the mood to cooperate and tried to slap his hand away from my face. "Besides having my entire brain overwritten by an alien database, you mean?"

Carson clicked off his flashlight with a touch of irritation. "Elizabeth has already spoken to General Landry and he has tried to contact the Asgard." He was talking to me as if I was a child and I knew from experience that this was never a good sign.

"But?" That probably came out slightly more petulantly than I intended, but anticipating my imminent mental decline was causing me some anxiety.

"But they haven't replied yet", Carson admitted. "Elizabeth is recalling the Daedalus; we're hoping that Hermiod will have some knowledge of…"

"You're 'hoping'?" I didn't care at this point if I sounded irritated. Elizabeth had been right; without the Asgard's intervention, General O'Neill would have died. "You do know that there's a time limit on my brain function here?"

"Don't jump to conclusions, Rodney." Carson tried to take my pulse, but I snatched my hand away. "We only have General O'Neill's experiences to compare with and you might not progress in the same way."

"Is that your expert medical prognosis, or are you still 'hoping'?"

He looked somewhat hurt at that. "We know that General O'Neill's first symptom was the ability to speak Ancient. Well, when I say 'ability', eventually he couldn't speak anything _but_ Ancient..."

"Carson! I've read the reports!" I admit that I snapped that one out but I had little time for inane observations. I _had_ read the reports, and they made grim reading.

Carson narrowed his eyes slightly and took a slow breath before continuing, "The point is, your scan shows no increase in activity in the language centres of your brain."

They say that the prospect of certain death concentrates the mind, but all I could think at the time was, 'Oh, great; the one thing that wouldn't be a problem here with at least a dozen people who can speak some degree of Ancient.'

Something about the way he had said that registered though.

"You have no idea how this _will_ develop, have you?" It wasn't really a question, and the look on Carson's face was enough of an answer for me.

I'd pulled the various electrodes off my head and face and swung my legs out of bed before Carson could put a hand out to stop me.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing, Rodney?"

I pushed away his hand and stood upright. "Look, unless you have some information that you're keeping from me, I have five, maybe six days before my brain shuts down." He looked shocked at my bluntness. "And during that time, I need to be in my lab actually _using_ whatever knowledge that damn thing downloaded into my head."

He looked about to argue so I put up my own hand to forestall him. "Tell me that I'm wrong."

I waited until he slowly nodded in assent, then got myself ready to leave the infirmary.

oOo

"Radek, stop looking over my shoulder!"

"I was not looking over your shoulder, Rodney; I was merely looking in your direction." Radek sounded affronted, but he stepped away from me, guiltily.

I gave a harsh grunt. "You were looking over my shoulder, Radek. I can see your reflection quite clearly in my screen."

Zelenka stalked back to his own workstation, muttering none too melodiously under his breath. He wasn't the only one who had been scrutinising my work over the past two days; I had caught most of my staff taking a sly glance at one time or another.

Carson had been right. My ability to read or speak Ancient seemed to be unchanged. Frustratingly, so was my ability to understand Ancient technology. That is to say I was unaware of any new knowledge that I hadn't had before.

Unfortunately, the last two days had yielded no reply from the Asgard, and Hermiod's, 'I will consider the problem, Doctor McKay' had not filled me with any great degree of optimism.

I put my head down and continued working. After a few minutes, I found myself humming along with the background music that had been drifting through the lab for the past few hours. I didn't recognise the tune, but the strange melody fitted my mood exactly, making it easier to concentrate.

The algorithms I was working on began to flow more effortlessly as the subtle music seemed to harmonise with my thoughts. Whoever had recently set up the radio in the lab was going to be getting a bonus in the next pay round. I idly wondered who it had been, before a particularly intricate section of code grabbed all of my attention and I closed my eyes for a second in deep concentration.

A slight shuffling noise behind me made me open my eyes again. I glanced down at my screen, surprised to find it filled with densely packed lines of code. Code which I couldn't remember writing. A movement caused my eyes to refocus on the reflection on the surface of my screen. It showed Radek standing behind me, peering intently over my shoulder at what I had apparently just written.

I turned sharply towards him and he took a step back; a concerned look crossed his face. "Are you feeling alright, Rodney? You look as if you are in pain."

As he spoke, I realised that I was in pain, but it was not a physical sensation. Somewhere at the extreme edge of my awareness I could feel that the melody floating through the air was very slightly off key and it hurt me to hear it. It needed resolution and somehow I knew that if I could only concentrate for five minutes more, I could bring it to perfection.

"Rodney, are you alright?" The small man asked again with a frown.

I was about to answer when the music unexpectedly erupted into a violent cacophony. I winced at the sudden pounding in my head as tall, thin-faced man, his long hair pulled back and tied tightly behind him, walked into the room.

"You," I clicked my fingers a couple of times and pointed at the small man who had spoken to me before, "Get him out of here." I gestured towards the long-haired man with a wave of my hand.

Ignoring my order, the small man stepped forward and placed a hand on my arm. "Rodney, do you want me to call Carson?" He asked in a heavily accented voice.

I had no idea who Carson was, but I had a strong feeling that he could stop the throbbing in my head.

I nodded once and grimaced as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my skull.

The music softened slightly and I looked up; a young, slender woman was escorting the long-haired man from the room. As he left, he took with him most of the jarring notes but I had little time to be thankful for the respite. The music continued to increase in volume, threatening to overwhelm me with its noise.

I put my hands over my ears in an attempt to shut out the sound, but the music seemed to force its way directly into my brain.

Crying out in agony, I sank to my knees. Darkness clouded my vision, and with a final whimper of pain, I allowed myself to fall into blissful silence.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Ending.

I woke to a feeling of warmth.

I was lying in a high bed and the bright light from a window was falling onto my left hand, gently warming my fingers. I lay still for a while, listening to the symphony that filled the air around me.

"Good morning." A pleasant, lilting voice attracted my attention and I looked round to see a white-coated man entering the room. He walked over to my bed and peered at me intently.

I smiled back and waited patiently for him to speak again. After a few moments he gave a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm just gonna ask you a few questions. Now, do you know who you are?" He leaned forward slightly and raised his eyebrows.

When I shook my head he looked disappointed.

"Okay, can you tell me anything that you remember happening before you woke up today?" He muttered something that sounded like a plea, closing his eyes briefly. I didn't want to disappoint him again and thought carefully about the question, but I could remember nothing beyond waking up earlier; nothing prior to the warmth on my hand, and again had to shake my head.

"Ach, Rodney. What are we gonna do wi'you?" He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at me sadly.

I had no answer yet felt the need to say something to ease his sadness. "I'm sorry, Carson, but it's all a blank."

He froze and gave me a piercing look. "What was that you said, Rodney?", he asked, sharply.

His sudden change in tone confused me; I could see nothing wrong with what I'd just said.

He must have seen my confusion and placed a reassuring hand on my arm. "You called me 'Carson'," he explained, an expression of surprise on his face. "You remembered my name."

I smiled warily back at him, still unsure of what I had done that he found so astonishing. When I looked at him I knew that he was called Carson, but that was all; I had no memory of him other than the name.

He gave me a calculating look then put a hand to his ear. "This is Beckett; can you come down to the infirmary, please, Colonel?" He paused and seemed to be listening to something. "Aye, Colonel," he continued with a smile, "I think it might be." He began to raise his hand again then halted and continued speaking to the unseen Colonel. "Is anyone with you?" Another pause, "Excellent; can you ask him to come as well, please? Thanks."

While Carson was talking, I tried to remember. He'd used the name 'Colonel', and it seemed familiar to me. I searched my mind for a face to match, but could find nothing. Closing my eyes tightly, I concentrated on the name, and suddenly I visualised a dark-haired man dressed in black, lounging in a chair. I fought to remember something more, anything besides just a name and a face.

I heard a drawling voice from deep within my memory, announcing that they had found what looked like an Ancient library. I pushed harder at the memory, but it ended there.

I lay, eyes closed, for several minutes struggling against the emptiness of my mind. My frustration was starting to mount when I felt a hand gently touch my arm. I opened my eyes and Carson nodded towards the door.

Two men were standing in the doorway, the taller one I immediately recognised as the Colonel.

"Gentlemen," Carson called over to them, "Rodney here remembered my name." Both men turned surprised faces in my direction as Carson continued. "I'd like to see if he knows either of yours."

The taller man crossed the room to me and raised an eyebrow. "Well, Rodney?", he asked expectantly.

I sat up in the bed and looked back at him. A memory rose to the surface of my mind and I knew that, although I frequently called him 'Colonel', that was not his name. "Sheppard", I said, and was rewarded with a broad, lopsided smile.

I turned my attention to the shorter man. He was also familiar, but his name eluded me, and finally I had to shake my head. "I'm sorry;" I said, "I can't remember your name."

Sheppard grinned, although I could see nothing amusing about my remark. The smaller man looked up at the ceiling and sighed before turning an unreadable face towards me.

"Please, let us not go through all that again."

The cadence of his voice stirred something and a name finally swam into my mind. "Radek."

Sheppard put a hand on my shoulder. "Well done, Rodney." He sounded pleased, but there was an undertone of sarcasm that I didn't quite understand and I frowned in frustration. I wanted to snap something back at him, something scathing, and I didn't have the words.

The Colonel gave me a hard look, his grin widening as he saw my irritated expression. His hand tightened slightly on my shoulder and he turned to face Carson. "It's okay, Doc. It looks like we're going to get him back."

oOo

Epilogue

Two days later, Sheppard, Zelenka and I were in the Ancient library. It was very much as I remembered it, except for the open access panel beneath the Repository interface. Radek walked towards the column without breaking step and I immediately put out my hand to stop him.

"It's alright, Rodney. We have turned off the power to Repository." Zelenka flashed me a quick smile.

Damn it. From his patient tone I knew that he had told me that already, possibly several times.

As far as I could tell, my long-term memory was back to normal, but my short-term memory was still shot, and it seemed to be random what particular information would stick. In Hermiod's considered opinion this would be a 'temporary impairment', although Carson had said that the last seven days would probably remain as a permanent gap.

I realised that Radek was looking at me expectantly. We had obviously come here for a reason, and I damn well wasn't about to admit that I had no idea what it was.

Sheppard's voice broke the silence and he gestured somewhat impatiently towards the open panel. "Well, Radek, show us the control crystal."

Oh, great. Sheppard was covering for me. I suppose I should have been grateful that at least there would be one thing I was _never_ going to be allowed to forget.

"Yes, sorry, of course, Colonel." Zelenka dropped to his knees in front of the access panel and pulled one of the crystals, handing it up to me with an apologetic look. "We have ascertained that this controls the two-way element to the interface." I scowled at the crystal, avoiding Zelenka's eyes, until he rose to his feet and continued his explanation. "When you access the database, it automatically determines the information required and downloads only that."

Ha, I _knew_ that there had to be a way to control the download.

"The Repository itself appears to be designed as short-term solution to a situation. It supplies relevant information and skills, which last for a maximum of a few days before…" Radek held up his hands, flicking open his fingers in a gesture of dissipation.

So, I was never in any real danger of dying. I wasn't sure whether I felt relieved or slightly embarrassed. Whichever it was, it distracted me and it took a moment before I realised that Zelenka was still talking, apparently in answer to a question from Sheppard.

"Ah, no, General O'Neill's situation was somewhat different, Colonel." Radek peered over his glasses at the crystal in my hand. "From reports it would seem that the first time that the General came into contact with one of these Repositories, he was hoping to find out as much information as possible about the people who made it, and that is exactly what it gave him. The second time he used the interface, he _expected _it to download everything, so, again, it did."

"Why didn't that happen to Rodney?" Sheppard asked with a slight frown in my direction.

I'd been wondering the same thing myself. I must have directed the transfer somehow but my memory of the few minutes before I accessed the Repository was as blank as that of the week that followed. I'd almost certainly been trying to figure out exactly how the interface worked, and I had a hazy recollection of a tune that had been stuck in my head, but how, or even _if_, the Repository could possibly have interpreted that as an instruction I had no idea.

"I don't know, Colonel, but he is lucky that it did not," Zelenka answered Sheppard in a solemn tone, "That much information would have been enough to overload anyone's brain."

"You mean that the Ancients didn't build in a failsafe?" Sheppard's question came a split second before I could respond to Radek's pointed remark and I had to content myself with glaring at them both in annoyance.

Zelenka shrugged. "Maybe they did, and it simply does not work for a human mind. The Repositories were designed by Ancients to be used by Ancients, and, despite what some may think," he glanced over in my direction, "they _were_ different from us." He shrugged again, "Or maybe their brains had the capacity to cope with that much information. I do not know, but it is not something that I would recommend experimenting with."

Zelenka's last sentence was aimed squarely at me. _It was an accident._ I was sure I'd told them that. How had I suddenly got this reputation for suicidal recklessness? Although, it wouldn't actually be suicidal, and, after seeing the amazing new code that I'd apparently written, the advantages possibly outweighed the risks.

"Okay, Rodney, what did you ask it to download?" Sheppard's question pulled me abruptly back from my thoughts.

I wasn't prepared to admit to guesswork and a vague feeling, so it was my turn to shrug. "I honestly don't know what I was thinking about when I accessed it."

Sheppard snapped his fingers as if he'd got the answer. "Food." He stated dryly, pointing at me, "My money's on food."

I gave him a contemptuous scowl. "And how exactly would me thinking about food result in the Repository downloading… whatever it did?"

He grinned back and folded his arms, "Beats me."

A stifled snort of amusement from Zelenka earned the man an irritated glare.

This was getting us nowhere. I tapped the control crystal against my palm and considered my options. If I could speak to Elizabeth before Sheppard and Zelenka did, I might be able to persuade her of the benefits of allowing me to research the Repository. Not that I'd actually make use of the interface of course, but if I could access the information some other way…

I found myself whistling a passage by Bach as I walked with Radek and the Colonel back towards the control room. I suddenly realised that it had been over twenty years since I'd last played that piece but my fingers unaccountably itched for a piano keyboard.

It was strange, I hadn't really thought about my music for years, but since using the interface it had been increasingly on my mind and I realised that I missed it; I wanted it back in my life. It was the only other residual effect that I'd noticed, and, unlike the trouble with my memory, I welcomed it.

End


End file.
